


Disheveled

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE, Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finds out why Draco avoids her.</p><p> </p><p>Why do I write about crushes so much? Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

At 11pm Hermione walked in to the conference room on the fifth floor expecting to find it empty.  What she found instead was Draco Malfoy with his jacket off, his tie loosened, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows revealing toned forearms.  He was arguing with Harry who stood behind a mountain of files at the end of the table. Draco had stopped mid-gesture with one arm raised in the air as it had been when Hermione’s entrance interrupted their discussion.

 _He’s looking awfully fit_ , she thought _. Thank Merlin for those tight suits._

“Hermione, sorry are we too loud?” Harry asked as he looked up, he was in a similar state of disarray but held a batch of files in each hand.

“Hmmm?” She realized Harry had spoken but had no idea what he said.  Then she realized she was staring. At Malfoy.  _FUCK_.

The vision holding her frozen was broken when Draco moved to grab his jacket, saying, “Best call it a night, Potter. We can pick up tomorrow.”

Harry and Hermione spoke at the same time, “But I thought you wanted-“, “Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt-“

“No, we should pick up in the morning. Clear head and all that.” He had pulled his jacket on quickly and was heading out of the room. He stopped before Hermione and gave her a nod, “Granger,” before leaving.

“I’ll just tidy all this, then,” Harry shouted after him.

“I’m so sorry, Harry.  Let me help.” Hermione said as she walked across the room to help Harry gather the files.  “I didn’t know anyone else was still up here.  I just came in hoping to raid the biscuit cupboard.”

*

Draco Malfoy most definitely did not run away. He had politely excused himself rather than stay and upset her.  Yes. That is exactly what happened. _Maybe you’ll believe it after another_ , his inner voice said. He took another swallow of his drink.

He had become very careful around Hermione, making sure she never saw him in less than long sleeves.  But he hadn’t been careful this evening, he had been focused on the project with Potter and that room was too bloody warm, and he had-. He closed his eyes, not wanting to remember she had seen-.  He tried again not to think about it. The last thing he wanted was to upset her.  He had done far too much of that in his life.

*

Hermione not only felt guilty about interrupting their work the night before, she was also hoping to finally break the ice a bit with Draco.  While he had become friendly with a number of her friends since the end of the war, he was still stiff around her if not avoiding her altogether. 

She had stayed up half the night trying to think of ways to get him to warm to her.  She’d been trying for what felt like forever and was at the end of her patience.  She’d also reignited the crush she’d had on him in school, a crush that was now burning out of control.  All of her attempts to approach him had only made it worse, with glimpses of his strong arms, the way he looked in those tightly tailored suits, how he looked with his hair tousled.

When she finally fell asleep it was only after imagining him as he looked in the conference room.  She fantasized that she found him there alone, that instead of leaving he would have sat her on the table and smoothly pushed up her skirt, she would hold his loosened tie and pull him in for a kiss, he would smile and then groan when he felt how wet she was.  _This crush is definitely out of control_ , she thought as she lay in bed, hand still in her knickers, breathing heavily after her Malfoy-fantasy induced orgasm. 

*

The next morning Hermione went again to the conference room on the fifth floor, this time bearing a tray of coffee and some breakfast pastries for Harry and Draco. All of four minutes later Draco made his excuse and left. 

Hermione’s shoulders sagged.  _Why didn’t it work?_ she thought, _he’s friendly to everyone else, including all of the other muggleborns, but no matter what he keeps his distance from me._  She slumped into one of the chairs and turned to Harry to apologize, again, for running Malfoy off.  Not two minutes later the door opened and Ron Weasley stuck his head into the room saying, “I heard there was food.”

“Honestly.” Hermione shook her head but gestured towards the pastries, “How could you possibly have heard?”

“Ran into Malfoy when I was getting off the lift,” he said the last part through a bite of chocolate croissant.

“Ugh. Did he also happen to mention why he still despises me?”

“Hmgh” Ron turned red and Harry came round to hit him on the back as he nearly choked on the large bite he had just taken.

Ron cleared his throat and swallowed a sip of coffee, “He really doesn’t despise you.”

“Oh Ron, he does! He’s become so friendly with everyone else, even you, even Harry!  Then when I’m present he always finds a reason to leave.  Last time you had everyone round to the Burrow for that picnic, I arrived while you were all still playing quidditch, I was helping set out the food and I saw him.  You were all laughing and joking when you landed, and he, as soon as he saw me it was like he couldn’t get away fast enough.  And I saw him, he was joking with Justin, and Justin is muggleborn, too.”  She frowned, dejected. “It’s only me he can’t stand.  And I’m trying so hard!  Why does he still . . . “ she trailed off, tears glinting in her eyes from the perceived rejection just as much as from her frustration at not being able to solve the problem.

Ron dropped the pastry and put his arm around her, “’Mione, I swear it, Malfoy does not hate you.  Fact is, I’m fairly sure he’s in love with you.”

Hermione pushed Ron’s arm off, sure he was making fun of her, “Hermione,” he pleaded at her retreating back, “Hermione, I think he might be right,” Harry piped in as well.  She didn’t stop, heading instead to her office and keeping her head down as she walked.

*

Draco returned to the conference room an hour later, hoping that one of her many projects had called Hermione away. As he opened the door Harry and Ron turned to face him, both looking extremely serious.  “Have a seat, mate,” Ron pushed a chair towards him. Draco sat and Harry and Ron each moved to stand in front of him, arms crossed on their chests. Draco frowned; he didn’t need to ask what this was all about. 

Ron and Harry looked at each other before Harry said “We need to talk,” and Ron added, “About Hermione.”

Draco was sure they were angry, he’d upset her the night before and again today even after trying so hard not to. _They should be angry_ , he thought. He looked down at his knees and waited, bracing himself.

“You’ve got her really upset.” Harry said. Draco shut his eyes; this was much harder to take than he anticipated. There was a pain in his chest and bile in his throat.  “She thinks you hate her,” Ron continued, “She’s been trying all sorts of things to try to be friends with you.”

Draco’s head snapped up, this is not how he had expected this conversation to go.  “Friends, with me?” he repeated.

Ron and Harry looked at each other again. “Listen, Hermione doesn’t take failure well,” Harry said. 

Ron snorted, “That’s an understatement”

Harry continued, “She’s frustrated that she’s been unsuccessful in her attempts to befriend you, and she’s noticed you’re friendly with everyone else, other muggleborns included, so she’s deduced that you dislike her personally.”

Draco just looked at them both, speechless.

Ron sighed, “She left here crying.”

“That’s mostly Ron’s fault.” Harry added.

“What did I bloody do?” Ron turned to him, his face starting to redden.

“You’ve teased her mercilessly about that crush she had on him, and she told you that in confidence.”  Ron and Harry had focused on each other as they resumed part of the argument they had been having before Draco came in.

“Crush?  On me?” Draco repeated.

Both Ron and Harry turned to look at Draco. Harry’s eyes were as round as his lenses as he blinked.  “Forget that part,” Ron said with a firm nod.

They had finally hustled Draco out of the room with a mishmash of advice.  He hadn’t actually heard any of it.  All he could think was she didn’t hate him, she’d had a crush on him once, and he had made her cry.  Again. Those thoughts went around his mind like a carousel.  He found himself hours later sitting in an alcove in a hall of empty offices, no closer to making the carousel stop.


	2. two

Hermione had papers from the Ministry spread across the floor and up onto sofa.  She had left the office early but took a pile of work home.  She wasn’t getting much done, too distracted by the events of the day.  _At this rate I’ll be working all weekend_ , she thought as she set down the parchment in her hand.

She was kicking herself for not finding a way to connect with Malfoy, kicking herself for her stupid bloody crush, kicking herself for telling Ron her secret one night during their short-lived attempt at a relationship, kicking herself for still being so attracted to someone who loathed her.  _What’s wrong with me?_ She closed her eyes.

A knock at her flat door interrupted her thoughts.

She couldn’t hide her surprise when she opened the door to find Draco Malfoy on the other side, holding a very large bouquet of flowers.  She just stood there, mouth open.  His hair was mussed, his tie loose and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. He cleared his throat, “Granger,” he handed the bouquet to her, “I’m sorry for” he gestured with his now free hand first between them and then somewhat randomly at the air, “upsetting you today.”

Hermione looked down at the flowers, up at Malfoy, down at the flowers again, and finally shut her mouth.  After a moment she let her arm drop, flowers now pointing to the floor.

“Harry sent you?”

Draco realized he should have thought of this contingency.  “Not exactly.”

She folded her arms, flowers still drooping. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw set.

“Potter and I spoke, briefly,” he admitted.

He barely got his arm up to block the first blow, flower petals rained down around him.

“Wha-”

The flowers came down again.

“Gra-”

And a third time.

“Hermione!” he caught her wrist.

They stared at each other.  Her brown eyes were on fire.  He didn’t let go of her arm.

“Hermione, would you please explain why you are hitting me with this very expensive bouquet?” He said very calmly.

“You!” she tried to hit him again but he held on. “Harry talked to you?”

He nodded, sure she would know if he lied and also very glad she had answered the door without her wand.

She pulled back towards her apartment and he released her. She turned, grumbling, “Boy who lived, not for much longer, bloody meddling . . .” he couldn’t hear the rest as she went further into the flat, trailing flower petals from the bouquet still clutched in one hand like a club.

Draco looked around in the hallway, brushing petals from his shoulder as he followed her inside and closed the front door.

He heard the fire flair as he moved slowly into her flat, taking in all of her decorations and the various pictures on the walls as he went.  “HARRY BLOODY POTTER YOU PRAT ANSWER ME THIS BLOODY MINUTE”, Draco had never heard her swear before.

“Hermione!  Are you alright, what happened?” He heard a female voice in a panic.

“Ginny, Your bloody meddling husband sent Malfoy to my flat.” She was speaking through clenched teeth.

Draco sat in the only chair in the sitting room not covered in parchment.

“What were you thinking?!” he heard Ginny Potter through the fire before he heard Harry.  “OW!, Ginny, wait, I was helping.”

“HELPING?!?!?” Hermione yelled at Harry’s face.

“Hermione, I mean it.  We’re not teasing.” Potter seemed to be dodging his wife’s attempts to smack the back of his head, “Ron and I both think he’s in love with you. Ginny stop.  Hermione, you should have seen his face when we told him you’d had a crush on him.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Both Hermione and Ginny yelled. The Potters disappeared from the fire and after a few deep breathes Hermione turned around slowly. She looked to her now closed front door and pressed her lips into a thin white line.  Her eyes scanned her flat, finally settling on Draco. He was staring at the floor.  Neither of them moved for at least a minute.

Draco closed his eyes. “I promised myself that I would never hurt you again.” He said it softly but clearly. “After the battle, you-“ He stopped, trying to control his voice.  “I promised myself that night that I wouldn’t hurt you again. It’s unforgivable that I have, and I came to apologize.”

“You don’t hate me?” Hermione asked softly.

“No.” He looked up at her.

Hermione looked at him, raised the bouquet still in her hand and looked at the broken and crushed flowers then looked back to Draco.

“Why did you bring flowers?” Of all of the questions swirling though her mind, in that moment for some reason that was the question that she was able to ask first.

“Jewelry seemed too personal.”

“Why bring anything?”

“You brought me pastry.”

“You didn’t take it.”

“Touché.”

There was a long pause before Hermione continued, “I’m sorry I used them to hit you.”

“Better than your fist.” He almost smiled.

“That one you deserved,” she smiled.

“I really did,” they both laughed.

There was another, shorter pause, “Do you want a drink?”

“Merlin yes!” He relaxed back in the chair.

Hermione set the ruined bouquet on the coffee table and went to the kitchen.  When she returned with two glasses of whiskey the flowers were as pristine as they had been when he arrived. 

She smiled and handed him his drink. “Thank you” she gestured with her tumbler toward the flowers before taking a sip.

“Don’t think it means you need to hit me again.” He joked before swallowing some from his own glass.  She smiled, sipping again.

She sat on the rug with her back to the sofa. “I have questions. That’s how I prefer this proceed.”

Draco settled back in the chair again, gesturing for her to start and taking another sip.

“Why do you avoid me?”

“I thought the best way to be sure I didn’t say or do anything hurtful was to not be in your presence.  I never considered that my avoidance could have made an even worse impression.”

“Last night was different.”

“Yes.” He took a large swallow of whiskey.

“Why?”

He closed his eyes. “I . . . wasn’t properly dressed.”

“You were dressed as you are now.”

“Not exactly.” Draco squirmed in his chair.

Hermione sat and considered him, sipping her drink and waiting him out. 

Draco sighed, “I had my bloody sleeves rolled up,” and he emptied his glass. He looked at her, sitting there with her work spread around her, hair twisted on her head, her face so open and attentive. “I didn’t want you to have to see it.  I didn’t want to remind you that I was so hateful.  I’ve been so careful, until last night.  I didn’t realize you were still in the building so late.”

“I wasn’t looking at that.” Hermione started to flush. She suddenly took a big swallow and seemed to be concentrating on her glass.

“Granger?” She swallowed the rest of her drink.

“Go ahead.” She nodded toward his arms.

He stood and very slowly removed his jacket. Hermione stayed in her seat on the rug, watching him.  He laid his jacket on the back of the chair and held his arm out, unbuttoning the cuff on his right sleeve and rolling it up to the elbow.  He paused, holding up his left arm with his right hand poised over it, ready to repeat the actions.  Hermione set her glass on the table but kept her eyes locked on Draco.  She raised one eyebrow, the corner of her mouth pulling up as well.

He unbuttoned his left cuff and rolled up the sleeve, keeping the inside of his wrist facing him and the back of his arm facing her.  Hermione bit her lip. Draco looked at her, incredulous. He had frozen mid-roll.

Hermione shrugged at him, “You have nice arms.” Draco dropped to the chair and kept staring at her. She smirked at him. “You’ve been stiff and buttoned up around me for so long, it’s . . . you’re a bloody tease is what you are.” She finished with a light laugh, really blushing now. “Is Harry correct? Do you have feelings for me?”

“Was he telling the truth about you fancying me?”

“Yes.” He just looked at her, so trusting with a slight pink on her cheeks and her lovely brown eyes locked on him like a challenge.

He dropped from the seat of the chair to his knees and then onto his hands as well.  He crawled toward her across her Ministry paperwork.  She reached for his tie as he approached, using it to pull him into a kiss.  He could feel her smile as she met his lips and brought one of her soft hands up to cup his jaw as he kissed her.

“Potter may be on to something.” He said between kisses.


	3. three

Draco maneuvered himself to sit next to her without breaking their kisses.  When she threw her leg over his hip and set herself in his lap his mouth fell open in a gasp. She was still holding his tie. Hermione rolled her hips very gently, just teasing but still drawing a groan from Draco.  “Just what is it that Harry might be onto?”

“Can we not mention Potter while we’re . . . ?” His eyes went down to his lap and she laughed at him. Draco moved his hands to her hips just as she rolled them again before she leaned in to kiss him deeply.

“What shall I mention then?” she whispered in his ear before biting the lobe.

He had started gently thrusting his hips to meet her, “You, you really fancy me?” He ran his hands up her sides, over her waist and up her ribs, up to her shoulders and down her back to her bum, which he cupped and squeezed.

 “Hmmm, I really do.” He was guiding her hips as they continued to rub against each other, “Felt like I was a teenager again, stuck on the boy who’s mean to me.”

Draco froze, his strong hands on her hips and bum stopping her movements as well.  Hermione’s head had fallen back and her eyes had become heavy as she spoke but the sudden change made her raise her head to look at him, “What-?”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes were squeezed closed.

“You want to stop?” Hermione wasn’t sure what had changed.

“What?” Draco looked up at her, finally opening his eyes.

“Was I too forward? I think men expect me to be much more demure in these situations and honestly, I do understand if you’re not attracted to me.  It’s most important that people are honest about their preferences-“

“Granger-“

“- always better to be upfront while everyone is still clothed if one’s desire is more tied to an expectation of behavior than to the reality of-“

“GRANGER.”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I was cruel to you when we were young.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, “In our current situation, does that mean you wanted to stop or you want to continue?”

He started laughing, the tension and a touch of long-held guilt just starting to leave him.  He released his hold on her hips and leaned his back against the sofa and just laughed, running a hand through his hair.  “You . . . ?” He stopped, just enjoying the curious look on her face.  “What would you like?”

“I would like for us to have sex, but I prefer if we move to my bed for that part.  However, I have been told that I’m rather aggressive and if you tend to favor women who might be described as meek then I think it best if we –“

Draco was laughing again, “I don’t see what’s so funny.” Hermione genuinely did not understand what was amusing him so.

“Granger, stay just as you are, always.” He slid his hand up to cup the back of her head as he pulled her in for a kiss. Draco was able to move her back a bit and to the side so he could work one arm under her knees and then slowly stand with her cradled in his arms.  He broke the kiss to watch for furniture as he carried her in the direction of her open bedroom door.

Hermione whispered in his ear, “Would it have been better when you asked if I fancied you if I told you instead how I pictured you in the conference room when I slid my hand into my knickers last night?”

“GODS, Granger!” Draco stumbled and nearly dropped her, “Hermione, if you had said that instead we would not have made it into your bedroom.” He gently set her down on the bed as she grabbed his tie and pulled him down on top of her. “In fact I may not make it out of my trousers.”

She started unbuttoning his shirt, teasing his skin with light tickles of her fingertips as she went.  “Like that do you, Malfoy?”

He leaned in to whisper next to her ear “Will you say ’Draco’?  And yes, I like it very much.”

“Draco, mmm,” He brought his hips down to meet hers again and kissed her, teasing her mouth with his tongue.

*

Much later they lay facing each other, the sheet on Hermione’s bed pulled up to their bare hips, covering twined legs.

Hermione smiled at him, “Isn’t this much better than avoiding me?”  Draco fell over to his back as he laughed.  “Isn’t it?” Her smiling face moved into his vision.

“Yes, much better.” He cupped her head and kissed her again.

“I think we’ve discovered an acceptable means by which you can make amends for any past behavior you might regret.” She said against his cheek as he kissed towards her ear.

“Hm, Hermione, I was awfully mean.  It may take a very long time to provide full restitution,” he said as he kissed and nuzzled behind her ear and into her soft hair, “and I would need to dedicate myself exclusively.”

“Whatever you think is best, Draco.” She murmured as her hand slid down his chest, down his stomach, and under the sheet.


	4. four

In addition to providing restitution on any surface and in any position Hermione wished, Draco also started asking her to restaurants, taking her to events and parties, and eventually asking her to dinner with his parents. Hermione couldn’t believe that Ron and Harry had seen his true feelings when she seen the opposite. While he never said the words, his eyes and his actions now told her the truth.

Hermione found her feelings for him growing by the day. She had never been with anyone who accepted her for who she really was.  In the past men had expected to change her, some wanting her to dress differently, some wanting her to behave differently, some just clear in their disappointment that she wasn’t at all like they expected. The difference between her and the image of 'War Heroine Hermione Granger' had been the cause of far more disastrous dates than she cared to recall.

Draco certainly seemed to like her as she was. He was perfectly happy spending hours in a dusty bookshop, or an evening playing with James so Harry and Ginny could go out.  She also found she liked him just as he was, with his old fashioned manners, his dry humor, his preference for formality in public and his unquenchable desire for her in private.  She noticed he could treat her like a lady and an equal simultaneously, a skill no other man had even displayed.

She also took such great pleasure in surprising him with her unapologetically voracious sexual appetite. Hermione had been waiting for some time to find the key to apologize for punching Draco in the nose, and one comment from Draco about their old school houses had provided just what she wanted. He told her she should have been in Slytherin for all of the joy she took in plotting and manipulating to achieve the realization of her fantasies.  That comment, for all that he meant it as a compliment, is what landed him in the conference room on the fifth floor late one evening.

She made sure the room was just a bit too warm, and that Draco was stuck untangling a convoluted assignment which he thought needed to be completed weeks before it really did.  As Hermione slipped into the room she found him as she had months ago, sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and his tie askew. The moment she walked into the room and he saw her smug smile he knew he had been had.

“Oh, Granger, what’ve you done now?” he said fondly.

“I thought it time I apologize for punching you in the nose.”  She said as she leaned back against the closed door.

“But we agreed that I deserved that.”

“Then I guess this is all for my enjoyment?” She slipped off her robes and stood before him in only her old school skirt and a loose green and silver striped tie.

Draco’s eyes went round before they darkened dramatically.  He dropped the folder of parchment he had been holding and came towards her with long, determined strides.  Hermione laughed at him, evading his reach easily and hopping onto the table, playing with the hem of her skirt.  She reached for his tie as he came close and pulled him in for a kiss.

He was so excited his hands were shaking as they skimmed the sides of her bare breasts, falling to her outer thighs just below her skirt. “How, how did you? Thought of you, so many.”  He was breathing hard and couldn’t even finish a thought.

“This is your old tie,” she whispered in his ear, making him moan.  “I nicked it the last time we had dinner with your parents.”

“Can we not mention my parents while we’re . . . ?” he said as his hands slid under her skirt.  It was far better than she imagined when she thought of him with his rolled up sleeves and his kisses, far better than he had imagined in all of his randy teenaged dreams.

Neither of them even noticed when the door opened and then promptly shut again.  Harry stood in the corridor looking confused as he asked, “But I thought you wanted to raid the biscuit cupboard?” as Ron blocked the door.

“Um, yeah, not really hungry after all. We should get back to that paperwork.” Harry wondered if his friend was ill as Ron hustled him back to the lift.

*

“Merlin, Hermione, that was, how did you even . . . “ Draco still couldn’t put words together an hour later as he and Hermione lay under the conference table with only her robes for cover. She laughed at him, kissing his cheek and enjoying the wide smile on his face.  He had never felt so relaxed, never felt so connected to anyone, so accepted, so loved.

“I love you,” the words came out of him in one rushed breath.  His unguarded silver eyes vulnerable as he looked at her.  “I love you, Draco,” she said, smiling and kissing him again and again.

 


End file.
